Motherhood Isn't for Sissies
by Simahoyo
Summary: Maura has been shot and Constance only finds out by accident. Who has been keeping things from her? How is Maura going to be? How is Jane going to react?
1. Chapter 1

Motherhood Isn't for Sissies

By Simahoyo

Constance Isles was just returning from setting up another installation of her artwork, this time in San Diego. The Gallery was a lovely one in La Jolla, and she was staying at a nearby resort. She wanted to check for email and telephone messages, since she hadn't heard from Maura in more than 2 weeks, and they had solemnly sworn to keep in touch.

As she opened the door, she could hear her agent, Humphrey, on the telephone.

"Yes, I'll take that message for you. 'Call Louise Danks, (617)555-0873. An emergency..'"He wasn't writing anything.

Constance grabbed the telephone from his hand, not quite remembering how she had gotten from the door to his desk. "Louise. What's wrong?"

"Thank God, I called yesterday, and no one could reach you, Maura's been shot." Constance's heart almost stopped. Her knees grew weak, but she was a strong woman–had to be. "She's in the Hospital, Sacred Heart, It's at 2205 Adams avenue. She's in intensive care."

Constance had taken Humphrey's pad and pen and was writing it all down. The back of her mind was going over what she needed to do to get there. Fear was trying to take over, but fear would debilitate her. Instead, she chose anger. She thanked Louise, hung up and turned on her agent

"Was there a message from Louise yesterday?" The anger was more visceral than any she had ever felt. Any more, and she would be delayed for murdering him.

"Yes, but you were so busy. It's my job to keep distractions from you so you can work."

"My daughter has been shot. She is in intensive care, and I am leaving to go to her. She is _not_ a distraction."

"You signed a contract. You cannot leave. They'll sue." He stood in front of the door.

"I don't care. Either help me pack or get out of my way." She reached behind him and opened the door, effectively shoving him out of her way. She was down the hall and in her room, with the suitcase open and packing as she dialed her cell phone.

Ten minutes later, she was waiting for a cab to Lindberg Field, had called her husband, and was trying to calm herself. Maura couldn't die. They hadn't had enough time together. Her own words ran thought her head, over and over, "Life is what happens while you are doing other things." Her nerves were jangling, her mind went every which way–but the one memory she couldn't shake was the phone call that had changed her life forever.

She had been not quite twenty when the call came. It had been raining, a hard soaker, with lots of runoff. Her parents had driven over to the cheap market, only a few miles from their apartment.. They had been rather late returning, and Constance was getting worried. Sophie was being a pain-her hobby as a newly minted teenager, and cranking her music to an unbearable volume. Constance made dinner, wondering where her parents could be. She yelled at Sophie to come and eat, and as the teen dragged herself to the table, the telephone rang. Constance could remember picking it up, she recalled the calm hospital personnel asking for her. Then that her parents had been in a accident. She turned to Sophie, and the memory replayed itself, over and over until she had gotten to the hospital with her sister, only to be told that both Maman and Papa had died.

It was probably the last time Sophie had allowed Constance to hold her.

Now all she wanted to do was get to Maura. The cab finally arrived, and she ran to it. The driver, seeing her state, helped her load up, and drove as fast as possible to the airport. He took her bags to the redcap station for her airplane, and she just grabbed money and handed it to him without counting. He noticed a hundred dollar bill, and tried to return it, she shook her head and got to her gate was fast as possible, even running along the conveyor belt path. As soon as she checked in, she started to pace. Her nerves were fraying. A white haired grandmother caught her eye. She smiled in an inviting way, and patted the seat next to her.

"Worried about one of your children?"

"Yes. She's in intensive care. She's my only child." She could barely control her voice.

The lady said nothing, just taking her by the hand and nodding in understanding. Constance felt herself almost relax. But she could feel her heart thumping as if trying to get out of her chest. Everything seemed jumbled.

"Would like to tell me about her? Sometimes it helps."

Constance considered her question. It was better than sitting there worrying. "My daughter was shot."

"Oh dear, the times we live in."

"I should have expected...she's a medical examiner...people have tried to kill her before. Things were just settling down. Isn't that always when these things happen?"

"How old is she?"

"Just 36 years old, and she is the Chief Medical Examiner for the Boston Police Department. She's brilliant. So young to hold that position, but such a responsible young woman."

"Do you have a picture?"

Constance gladly pulled out the picture Jane had snapped the last time she had seen Maura. They were laughing. Maura's arm was around her waist. She could almost feel the warmth there now. She closed her eyes, then opened them, and handed the lady the picture.

"You both look so happy. She has a wonderful smile."

"She does. I have missed so much with her.( _Oh God,_ _Maura_). I wish there was a way to keep them safe." She felt the grip on her emotions slipping. She couldn't allow herself to go down that rat hole–not again. For the first time in more years than she could count, she mentally said a Hail Mary. They called her flight. The lady handed the picture back and Constance thanked her before boarding.

Somehow the flight happened. She managed to get herself off the plane, pick up her luggage and get a cab home. She had him wait as she dropped all but a single change of clothing and her purse.

They went straight to Sacred Heart, where she ran to the information desk.

The receptionist behind the desk turned to Constance, waiting for her to speak. "My daughter is in Intensive Care. Maura Isles." The woman searched her computer, then nodded. "Yes, go to the elevators down the hall, on your right, and go to the 3rd floor, then follow the yellow line, and it will take you right there."

Constance thanked her and hurried down the hall, tapped her foot waiting for the elevator, and once on the 3rd floor, Picking out the yellow line from among the red, yellow and green lines on the floor, following the yellow. She opened the doors, and a nurse looked up at her. "I'm Maura Isles' mother."

The nurse came around the desk and beckoned to her. They went on down the hall to room 308. The nurse opened the door, and Constance went in. Angela was standing next to Maura's bed. The second she saw Constance, she moved out of the way. Constance took her place, holding Maura's limp hand in her own. She glanced at the machines, familiar from her own hospital stay. Everything seemed to be moving, beeping or blipping as they should. Maura was intibated, the machine breathing for her. Suddenly, Maura's hand squeezed hers. Constance started, hoping for more movement, but that was all. She turned to Angela.

"She squeezed my hand. Has she been doing that?"

Angela looked as if she would cry. "No. She must know it's you. That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh, I do hope so. I'll do anything to help..." And Maura squeezed her hand again. Constance kissed the hand she held, whispering, "_Je t'aime, ma belle petite fille_." She continued murmuring endearments in French and English, knowing from her own experience that some part of Maura would know she was there, and wanted to be with her daughter as long as she was needed or wanted.

Sometime later she noticed Angela had gone. Constance wondered when "Benny" would get there. Traveling from New Zealand took a lot longer than from San Diego, so she expected he wouldn't arrive until the next day. She'd be spending the night at the hospital. It was worth it.

Constance realized she would be there long enough that she might was well sit down.

Hours later, she had run through every nursery rhyme, story, poem, song (and she was no singer), in both languages. She was getting hungry. Maybe a Rizzoli would show up just long enough for her to catch a quick meal. Just then, the door opened, and Jane strode in. She looked up at Constance, frowned and put her hands on her hips. She eyes flashed, and speaking very quietly, but clipping each word to make her anger clear, Jane started in.

"It's about time you showed up. I called, Ma called, and Louise called. Where the hell were you?"

"You all called? Was that yesterday? "

"It sure as hell was. What the hell were you doing that you couldn't take a minute and call one of us back?"

"I never got one of those messages. What time did you start calling?"

"3PM. Where were you?"

Suddenly, Constance put it all together. And she hated it. "Jane, Did you speak to my agent, Humphrey?"

"Yes. He took a message. Same with Ma and Louise." Jane started to continue, but Constance put up her hand to stop the flow of words.

"He never gave me any messages. Apparently, he has made a habit of it over the years. The only reason I found out what happened is because it walked in on Louise's call today. Do you recall the night you and Maura went to my opening in Boston, and I said I had forgotten to put Maura on the list? I hadn't. Humphrey never put her on. Over time, I had wondered why I hadn't heard much from Maura. I just thought she was busy. He has been keeping us apart. I don't understand why."

The look on Jane's face was as if the sun coming from behind a cloud. "Oh my God, he's like an abusive husband. Keeping you away from family and friends. You need to get away from him. There's something wrong with this guy. I thought there was something off, if you were willing to die to save Maura, why would you stop talking to her?"

Constance closed her eyes, then opened them. "Thank you, Jane. I appreciate this discussion. I, um, I need to ask you for another favor. Are you willing to stay with Maura while I get something to eat? I won't be long."

Jane smiled at her then. "I'm happy to do that. Take as much time as you need. I owe her for staying with me when I was shot." Jane looked down at Maura's face, lovingly, " I owe her a lot."

"Thank you Jane."

The cafeteria was filled with a mix of medical personnel and patient's families. Constance just picked something fast, but paid no real attention to what she had ordered. She sat down, and ate and drank, not tasting anything much. She stopped by the restroom on her way back, and then opened the door to Maura's room. Jane was leaning down, kissing Maura's forehead. This was no surprise to Constance. She had known for quite a while that they loved each other, even though they didn't seem to understand their relationship themselves. It would be better, she thought, to let Jane stay with Maura for a while. Constance had a theory, and decided to check it out.

"Jane, has Maura squeezed your hand or otherwise recognized you?"

Jane looked at her oddly. "Yes, she fluttered her lashes and squeezed my hand. I nearly jumped out of my skin."

"She doing better. When I got here, she started squeezing my hand. She fluttered her lashes for you. When her father gets here..."

"She'll get up and dance for him.", Jane smiled. "We all know how she feels about him."

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

Motherhood Isn't for Sissies, Chapter 2

By Simahoyo

Constance fell asleep in the chair next to Maura's hospital bed. When she woke up, it was dark inside the room, although there was enough light from the hallway to let to see things dimly. She looked over to Maura, who was very still, but all the machines were monitoring as usual. Constance blinked her eyes. She was wide awake again–like the nights the infant Maura had cried for her. Constance stood, and walked over to Maura's unconscious form. She wished there was a blanket to adjust or something. She stroked the side of her daughter's face. There was a part of her turning anger inward, chiding her for allowing herself to be distracted from Maura–for not investigating why she wasn't hearing from her only child.

Another child, this one a teen, was shouting at her. Saying what a terrible mother she was. Her ironed straight hair hung limply, while her tie died t shirt challenged Constance's aesthetic sensibilities. Sophie, the sister she had tried to raise herself–the one who still hated her for the botched job she had made of it. Constance felt like such a failure. She had driven Sophie away, and now she had neglected her own child. Fame was a bitter disappointment. It was like a beautiful fruit with a rotten core. When this was over, she would go back to teaching. She couldn't stop drawing, painting, sculpting, but she didn't need her name in galleries- in newspapers. It wasn't worth losing her soul. Mirroring what Jane had done, she kissed Maura's forehead. She stood there for a long time, just looking, then went back to the chair and slept some more.

When the door opened again, it was light, and Constance was immediately wide awake. The Day Nurse walked in, looked up at her, and smiled.

"Are you the Mother?"

"Yes. Can you tell me how she is? I got here so late, I haven't been filled in."

The nurse lifted the chart from the foot of the bed and read. "GSW–Gun shot wound, to the abdomen..."

Constance winced. That was a dangerous place because of possible infection from the intestines.

"...She was very lucky, in some ways. The trajectory hit her right ovary, missed her large intestine, nicked the small, and somehow missed her spine and pelvic girdle. The operation repaired her injuries, and she only lost the one ovary." The nurse looked up at her. "She was very healthy, and strong. I'm seeing notes that seem pretty optimistic."

Relief washed through Constance. "She always was very careful of what she ate and getting enough exercise. She's a very determined ch...woman. I'll be here as long as she is."

"I wish every mother cared as much." and the nurse wrote some notes, then left. Constance fought her own guilt.

There was absolutely no meanness in Maura. She had been so lucky, to have someone so naturally sweet in her care. The child couldn't even lie. It was as if God had given her the anti-Sophie to make up for all the pain she had caused in her sister's life. Every rebellion that little hellion had staged had ended in disaster, including jail time. The Quebec City police knew their address by heart. Constance had gotten past the initial embarrassment, and had gone to anger, then a stoic resignation. She got used to having her place searched for stolen goods and drugs. It was fortunate that the police understood that she had no control over the brat, or she might have had quite a police record herself.

Strangely, it was getting pregnant by Guy Coset that got Sophie to settle down. They had run off, and gotten married in secret, informing Constance after the fact. It was a good thing too, since Sophie's pregnancy was showing spectacularly by then. Sophie moved out, and Constance's life was, finally, her own.

That was when she had met E. G. Isles, MBA student–her, "Benny" He had changed her life, coming in like a spring storm, sweeping away all the pain and hurt, offering her a new life. She hadn't even known he was wealthy, and didn't care. When he had taken her home to meet his parents, she had nearly fainted at the sight of their house–but his parents were so kind and charming, they made her feel at home. It was Benny that noticed her artwork, and encouraged her to get a degree. He had also teased her long enough and gently enough to get her to improve her English. Best of all, he made her laugh. It had been such a long time since she had been able to laugh.

Their routine was comfortable and safe–until a two week old baby had been placed in her arms, and her life changed again. Constance had never met any person with such innate sweetness and innocence. She looked down at Maura, love pouring out of her. This child had been her greatest teacher. She thought back to some of Maura's little pranks, and smiled. Giving her that chemistry set had not been Benny's greatest idea. Then there had been her demonstrations of physics over doors, and inside closets. No one had ever been hurt. There was absolutely no harm in her. Even her most outrageous prank had made both parents laugh once she was out of earshot.

Constance caught herself re-telling the stories to Maura, in a one-sided trip down memory lane.

Suddenly her ESP alerted her that Benny was nearby. She turned, looking at the door. Footsteps approached, and the door opened. She was in his arms-both crying. Kissing him, uniting in their sorrow and fear. Constance stepped back so he could be with Maura. He put her small hand in his huge one, gentle as possible.

"Hi Maura. I'm here. I'm not leaving until you're all better." His face registered shock and delight. "She squeezed my hand."

"She's been doing that. I think she knows it's you."

"That's good, isn't it? What happened to her?"

"I know she was shot, then they operated. The bullet missed both her spine and pelvis, thank God. She lost one ovary and her small intestine was nicked and repaired."

"It's lucky it wasn't a lot worse. When did this happen?"

Constance hesitated, knowing Benny's reaction was not likely to be a good one. "Yesterday. I called you as soon as I found out. Before you ask–I walked in on Humphrey talking to Louise and not taking a message."

Benny's face darkened. "That explains a lot. The bastard. I always suspected something was up with him."

"Forget him. Our family is together–for Maura. He doesn't matter."

He hesitated, then shrugged. "You're right, Connie. It's all about her right now."

About an hour later, Jane Rizzoli tapped on the door, and opened it hesitantly. She smiled when she saw both of them there with Maura.

"Oh good. You made it. She'll like that. How is she doing?" Jane strode in, and stood, one shoulder against the wall.

"It's kind of hard to tell. We'd like to talk to her doctor.", said Constance. Do you know who that is?"

Jane nodded slowly. "Yep, Sluckey. He's a real piece of work, but he knows his stuff. I'll go find him. I can't guarantee how long it might take. If he won't come back, I'll beat the information out of him." Her smile was threatening. Constance could see why she was such an effective detective..

Jane walked out at an almost trot, closing the door behind her. Constance took Benny by the hand, and they both looked down at Maura. Her eyelashes fluttered.

It really wasn't that long before there was another tap at the door. It opened to reveal a doctor with an arrogant look to his face. He glared at the Isles. "You insisted on seeing me?"

Constance put on her own arrogance, drawing herself up into the role. "We did. What is our daughter's condition? What are her chances of a full recovery?" She could practically feel the ice in her own voice.

Dr. Sluckey's head snapped up. "You got the gist of the gunshot wound from her nurse, but as far as her chances of a full recovery...I'm not sure. We'll have to watch for infection, but I put her into an induced coma. That's to help her use all her energy to heal. If she's doing well enough, I'll take her out of it, and we can go from there. I want her under for at least a week, then we can see what her condition is."

End chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

Motherhood Isn't for Sissies, Chapter 3

By Simahoyo

They settled into a sort of rhythm, Constance would stay with Maura, and Benny would go home and shower, change and check the mail and phone messages, then they would trade places. In between, Jane would step in. Both parents knew to let them have some privacy, so they spent that time together. It was the fifth day of Maura's induced coma. Jane was with Maura, and Constance and Benny were eating in the hospital cafeteria. They had gotten to the point where they could smile and joke again, but always with the background of fear and worry.

"Jane would make Maura a hell of wife–or husband–whatever they say these days." Benny paused to butter a roll.

"I know. She tries to hide it, but she's very thoughtful and kind. I like her. Not sure how she feels about me though."

Benny put down his fork with a thump. "Connie–stop it. All that guilt your sister dumped on you, you need to stop owning it. That's her baggage. You tried your best with her. She went her own way. Look how Maura turned out. She's a great kid. When Jane gets to know you, she'll love you too."

"Constance Isles?" A young man who looked like an engineering student was standing next to her. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what this was about.

"Yes."

He handed her a document, adding, "You have been served." Then he walked away before her brain caught up with what he had said. She opened the document, reading, "Notice of Breech of Contract." She scanned the document, and noted the signature. Humphrey Williams. The bastard.

Without a word, afraid of what she might say, Constance handed the document to her husband.

She watched him read, frowning, then he got a look on his face that matched one in a favorite painting–Jimmie Fife's "The Earth is Our Mother", then he crushed the offending papers exactly like one of the characters in the painting. "This is crap! Our lawyers will bury him. Damn–I don't want to mess with this now. Do you?"

"Absolutely not. Couldn't we just give it to them to take care of? I don't want to leave Maura."

Her voice was shaking. God, she couldn't hide anything from Benny.

He looked up at her. "Yes, we could for now, but you have got to stop letting people take advantage of you. You are the strongest woman I know, but there are certain types of people you just fold for. I never quite trusted that guy, but the art stuff was your business. I butted out. Now, I'm all in. We said we'd do this together, you know, our lives. So, when he sues you, he sues me. We have good lawyers, Connie. I'll shoot this to them today, and be right back with you and Maura tomorrow. At least you'll always get my messages from now on."

Constance knew he was right. She also knew why. She'd had to pretend she was all grown up and responsible–faked it, in fact. Actually, she was still faking it half the time. She felt awful about putting her trust in Humphrey. "Benny. I'm sorry. I messed up again." She looked at her hands. "This fame shit is over. I'll teach again. I don't need the rest of it. What I need is my family."

"We need you. Don't worry about the rest. Go on up to Maura. I'll go home and circle the lawyers."

They kissed and Benny took off. Constance wanted to give Jane a few more minutes with Maura, so she located the hospital chapel, lit a candle, and knelt in front of the statue of the Virgin. Crossing herself, she took solace in one of the few prayers she remembered, "Our Father". It had been a very long time. She meditated on the situation with Maura and with Humphrey.

Okay, so maybe she was getting hit over the head with what was actually important in her life. And what had turned out to be important was her family. That was not just Benny and Maura. It hurt to come to the conclusion that her family included Sophie–who hated her.

Constance sat back on the pew, opened her purse and tore a page out of her little notebook. She found a pen, and started to write the letter she had needed to write for more than forty years.

She used French, knowing her sister had been pretending to be a Francophone since she had left home. She wrote everything she had been keeping back. She laid her heart out for her sister to see. How much it had hurt to lose their parents. How badly she had wanted to be a better mother to Sophie, and most of all how sorry she was that they no longer spoke. She needed another sheet of paper, finished her note, and found an envelope, addressed it, and added enough stamps to get it to Quebec City.

Constance found a mailbox outside the hospital, and pushed it in. She couldn't back out now. She went back into the hospital with a burden lifted. When she opened the door into Maura's room, Jane was seated next to her, telling a story about Frost and his pride in his computer skills crashing along with a program he had thought he had recovered. She was a great storyteller, so Constance listened quietly, noticing the love in Jane's voice. This young woman would be family soon, she thought. She watched the tenderness with which Jane touched Maura's face. Then she looked up at Constance.

"Hi. Thanks for the extra time with Maur'. It's the best part of my day."

"Mine too. Thank you for loving her."

Jane looked embarrassed. "It's easy. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do. By the way, my agent that I told you about–he's suing me. My husband is gathering our lawyers together."

"I hope the F..." She looked at Maura guiltily , "uh, the jerk gets what's coming to him. I can't say much for his timing."

"I'm learning about what's important–and what isn't. I'm where I need to, and want to be. Oh, and Jane, You and I both have a habit of swearing. I think Maura has her work cut out for her later."

Jane laughed, got up to leave, and on her way out, reached out to touch Constance on her shoulder. She understood the meaning behind the gesture, "Thank you, Jane."

"Anytime."

Constance kissed Maura's forehead and sat next to her. When she had been home last, she had looked through her treasures for Maura's bird studies. It was the only way her artist resistant daughter could be conned into using her drawing skills–a scientific study of birds. All were drawn from life, in color, and where she had seen them. For a nine-year old, it was amazing. Some, to a proud mother, almost rivaled Audubon's. She had been as careful with sparrows and crows as with purple martins or loons. Notes along the side noted the birds location, anatomical characteristics, and so forth. One noted, "That baby bird eats a lot!". Another, "I see yarn from my old sweater in their nest." The drawings and comments kept her entertained for hours.

The next morning, Doctor Sluckey arrived to look at, "How his patient was progressing."

He checked all the machines, wrote notes, checked her eyes by pulling the lids open and staring inside with a penlight, wrote more notes and was walking out the door.

"Doctor Sluckey!" Constance used her most commanding voice–her student who kept making the same mistake over and over voice. "Tell me how my daughter is."

He turned, glaring at her, and answered in a clipped, snotty tone. "She's doing well enough that I'll wake her day after tomorrow. I do know what I'm doing. Now I have other patients to see."

Constance was happy to see him go.

End Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

Motherhood Isn't for Sissies, Conclusion

By Simahoyo

It was the day Maura would be awakened, not by Prince Charming, but the ever surly Dr. Slukey. Knowing her daughter, Constance brought along a new toothbrush and a tiny tube of toothpaste. Maura would be mortified by her breath after over a week without oral hygiene. She had it timed to take care of that little problem privately before the entire Isles plus Rizzoli families converged on this tiny room. The nice Day Nurse had agreed to help out with the chore, while everyone waited outside the door. The hall was filled with Benny, Constance, Angela, Jane and Frankie Rizzoli. Tommy has been unable to get off work, so Frankie held flowers from his brother. The anticipation was driving Constance insane, but she hid it like a good hostess at a boring dinner.

She could hear the others talking, but they might as well have been speaking Martian. At last Slukey sauntered out of Maura's room, head high, and nose in the air. Constance stepped in front of him. He glared at her, then deigned to speak. "She's fine. She will have a hard time speaking for a bit. I have to go." As he strode down the hall, the lovely Day Nurse, paused, smiled, and added," She's awake, and ready to see you–one at a time, at least as you enter."

"Were you able to..."

The nurse grinned and gave Constance a thumbs up. Benny opened the door, leaving it open so Constance and the Rizzolis could see. The second she saw him, Maura's face lit up like Christmas. He bent down, engulfed her in a hug, and they could see her hands reach around his neck. After a minute, he stepped back and nodded to Constance.

She had to stop herself from running. She threw her arms around her daughter, and kissed her cheek. Maura was smiling at her now. She tried to speak, but nothing came out but a croak. "I love you so much. The Rizzolis are here waiting to see you. We can talk later." With a final kiss and hug, Constance stepped back to make room for Angela. The Rizzoli matriarch was shivering as she came in, she clutched at Maura, who hugged back. It was a long hug–the Rizzolis were practically family by this point.

Frankie was hesitant, presenting the flowers, but not sure what to do with them. "These are from Tommy. He had to work. The guys and the morgue people are coming tomorrow." Constance took the flowers and looked around for something to put them in. A pitcher was nearby, and with her sense of whimsey, it fit the situation. Frankie bent and gave Maura an awkward hug. She hugged him back. As he stepped back, Maura watched the door.

Jane's entrance was a mixture of pride, shyness and anticipation. Maura showed a depth of feeling her mother had never seen before. She felt her throat close up, and her eyes tear. When the two women were close enough, Maura's opened her arms, while Jane wrapped herself around her. Their kiss would have been enough to wake Snow White and Sleeping Beauty–if Maura hadn't already been awake. The love poured off them in waves. Jane pulled back, and they gazed into each other's eyes. Constance glanced at Benny, who was gulping to control his emotions. Angela was openly crying. Frankie was red faced–a man seeking privacy. Jane stayed next to Maura, and talking to her quietly.

The emotions had worn both Isles out. Frankie and Angela left, while Jane was still sitting with Maura. It was a good day. A tiny tapping sound came from behind the closed door. Constance went to open it, and there stood a slightly younger, shorter version of her." Constance almost rubbed her eyes. She never expected..."Sophie? Oh my God. Sophie!" They hugged awkwardly.

"How, when...? I'm so happy to see you."

"Connie. I got your letter. When I heard about your daughter, I drove right down. How is she doing?" Constance almost didn't register that her sister had answered in French. She switched languages.

"Come in, I'll introduce you. You haven't even met my husband."

They walked in together, and something empty inside her started to fill. She glanced at her sister. There was no wall of resentment. Maybe she had been forgiven. Benny looked up, and did a double take. He obviously knew who this was. Constance took her sister up to Benny, switched to English, and introduced them.

"Sophie, this is my husband, E.G. Isles. E. G., this is my sister, Sophie." He grinned, took her hand and shook it in a charming, non-invasive way.

"It's good to meet you. Our day just got even better."

Sophie laughed, and followed as Constance turned to Jane and Maura. "Sophie, this is our daughter, Maura. Darling, this is your Aunt Sophie." They both looked at each other in fascination. Maura hadn't even known about her Aunt. And Sophie had just found out about Maura.

"I see you must be feeling better. When your mother wrote me about what happened, I drove straight down."

Maura opened her mouth, and despite the croaking sound, she forced the words out. "I'm so happy to meet you. Forgive me, I just got a breathing tube removed."

"And...?" Sophie was looking at Jane.

Constance looked at Jane and Maura, "This is Jane Rizzoli, she and Maura are...Well, Jane...? Just don't you dare say _best friend_."

Jane colored briefly. "I guess–um, way more than friends?" Her voice squeaked at the final syllable.

Sophie smiled, and commented in French. "Sounds like a B. C. accent." Maura giggled. It was a nice sound. Maura's reply was in French also, "_Mon amant_." Sophie nodded approvingly.

Constance looked at Sophie. She looked good. "I haven't seen my sister in too many years, so if everyone will forgive us, I'd love to have a while to catch up."

The two sisters went down the hall to a quiet corner, and sat down facing each other. Constance gathered her thoughts.

"I want to know if you have forgiven me?"

Sophie's face reflected astonishment. "What? What have you done for me to forgive? Yes lost track of each other, yes. I had thought you were so wrapped up in your life with your rich husband that you didn't want to be a part of our old neighborhood anymore. When I got your letter, I could see that you weren't a snobby rich person. I was happy about that part."

"But you always said I was a terrible mother to you. That I had ruined your life."

"No. Connie, I was a teenager–I was sad and angry because I'd lost my mother and father. I said the same hurtful things all teens say. Didn't Maura?"

"There were several, 'I hate yous' at the time–yes."

"Just like my kids. I grew up. All these years–gone because you believed an angry teenager? I'm so, so sorry. And you were so young to take me on. How did you manage?"

"I thought I didn't. Sophie, tell me about yourself. What have I missed? Are you still married to Guy?"

"Yes. The best decision of my life. He's an electrician now, and owns his own company. I have two kids, Nicole and Robert. Nicole is nearly forty now, with grown up kids, and the oldest is expecting. I'm going to be a great-grandmother."

"That's wonderful. Do you have pictures?"

The photos came out, and the sisters compared the children and grandchildren with family members they had known as children. Whose nose was like Grandmere's Who was as tall as Papa.

As time went on, they re-joined the rest of the family, and Maura's new aunt got to know her and Jane–obviously about to be the newest family member. Constance looked at the tableau in from of her, gazed upwards and whispered, "Merci"

The End.


End file.
